


It’s an Avocado! Thanks!

by sleepysailors



Series: Modern Sprace [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Deaf Racetrack Higgins, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepysailors/pseuds/sleepysailors
Summary: Domestic Sprace attempt to introduce their baby to avocados.That’s literally it. All fluff.





	It’s an Avocado! Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Patrick is 5 months at this point

Some days are worse than others. It has to be this way. Without the bad one can’t appreciate the good and visa versa. However for Spot Conlon he’d be eternially grateful if just one good thing came out of his day. The subway brokedown halfway through his commute landing him at work no less than two hours late. The divorce that was a sure fire cut and dry case suddenly turned into a topsy turvy mess, when his client revealed that he had not one but three bastard children that his soon to be ex-wife had no idea of. This fun turn added way more paperwork than he ever planned on. To top it all off after riding the stifling hot subway home, when he finally thought the worst of it was over a bus blew past him splashing filthy puddle water all the way up to his waist.

 

“Tony?” Spot called out dropping his backpack and shedding his sopping wet pants at the door. “Racer you here?” He ambled through the kitchen, opening cupboards and the pantry looking for the right snack to brighten his day. A small blue bowl of green mash sat on the counter. Guacamole made everything better. He took out a bag of chips plunging the first one in and popping it in his mouth before gagging on the flavor. It was awful nothing like the acidy richness Racer usually prepared just bland green mush

 

“Hey babe,” Race interrupted his thoughts as he entered with Patrick on his shoulder. “How was… No pants?”

 

“Don’t ask. Bad day. But not nearly as terrible as whatever the hell that is.”

 

“That’s Patch’s dinner,” Race chuckled, “It’s just avocado and peas.” 

 

“My poor bubs,” Spot whined. He relieved his husband of their infant son bouncing him gently and pressing kisses all over his face earning sweet giggles and coos. “Soon as those teefers come we’se getting you a steak. A real one. None of this veggie crap.”

 

Patrick waved his hand aimlessly before curling it around his fathers tie  

 

“You love avocado besides its supposed to be so good for their little brains.” Race stroked his soft hair with with back of his finger.

 

“You’re good for little brains.” Spot shot back, Race cocked his head with a smile. “Leave me alone. Your judging isn’t good for the baby... or Patrick.” Spot crossed the tiny apartment curling up on the couch with Patrick before calling out, “Racer come cuddle us! I’m distraught!”

 

The three sat wrapped in a blanket as the they shared their days with one another. Their idle complaints were often interrupted by the soft babbling from Patrick. Since the day he was born he’d been given the floor to voice his concerns and add to the conversation. Typically one on one, Racer only signed to the infant and Spot only spoke, but family time was often the exception.

 

Spot was half way through his rendition of _Oh Where Is My Hairbrush_ , when the timer on the microwave chimed as the dinner bell.

 

“Spottie?” Race called out as he pulled a smoking bowl of what should have been leftover Indian food out of the microwave.

 

He crossed the room to the smoke filled kitchen as they both tried fanning it out the vents and window. Once it was clear they wouldn’t be ringing the fire department with the mishap Spot and Patrick began sorting through different take out menus. Race stirred the green mash in the bowl making yummy sounds as it squelched and slopped around.

 

“Looks tasty don’t it bubs?” Spot lied fitting him into his highchair.

 

His tiny face wrinkled in disgust as Racer tried gently prodding his tiny mouth with the spoon.  “Come on kid, millennials love avocado!”

 

“He doesn’t want it. Besides he definitely missed the boat on that by at least 25 years.” Spot laughed as he took the spoon from Race making airplane sounds with his mouth.

 

“Gen Z loves avocados too! It’s pretty timeless.” Race argued before cheering on his son. 

 

Patrick pushed the spoon away from his mouth letting the mush splatter all over his highchair as he giggled and splashed in the mess. “Pretty sure that cut off in like 2010. This generation might just hate guac.”

 

“Will you stop it with your negativity. No son of mine isn’t eating avocados.” Race snapped taking the spoon from Spot. He attempted switching the airplane noise for the more traditional choo choo train, “ _Come on Boogers, it’s so tasty and so good for your brain._ ”  
  
“ _What generation is he_?” Spot asked, looping his arms over Racer’s shoulders and resting their heads together as he successfully got the first bite in.    
  
“I’m not sure.” He paused in thought for a moment scooping another spoonful into the green mouth. “That’s my bestest boy!”

 “ _I’m_ _pretty_ _sure_ _Gen Z named themselves. Remember when they wanted to call ‘em the iGen. We might have wait for this group to become self aware.”_ Spotsaid, he dipped his finger in the baby food and bopped his son on the nose making him impossibly messier.

Patrick began making happy burbling noises before spitting up green mash all down his front and giggling uncontrollably.  
  
“It’s gonna be a long time before that then.” Race mused as he attempted to contain the mess.    
  
Spot kissed Racer’s cheek as he cleaned up before kissing Patrick on the head. “Good. He’s already growing up too fast as is.”  


  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while waiting in the subway station please be kind I just wanted domestic fluff.


End file.
